


A Yule to Remember

by annacec



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bellamione Cult Secret Santa 2019, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hat Trick, No war, Trope city, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21953557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annacec/pseuds/annacec
Summary: When Hermione agrees to pretend to date her ministry coworker and friend Draco Malfoy to fool his family at their annual Yule Ball, she expects a bit of questioning, some judgmental looks, and plenty of family drama. What she doesn't expect is the magnetism of the Black Sisters, and soon finds herself in well over her head.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Andromeda Black Tonks, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 33
Kudos: 633





	1. Chapter 1

‘Please, Hermione? It’s only for a day. A night, really, not even 24 hours. You don’t have to come until it starts and then we can leave the next morning.’

Draco’s eyes were wide and faux innocent as he did his best impression of an abandoned, helpless orphan puppy. Hermione should have been immune to the pout by now, having worked with Draco at the Ministry for the past five years after graduating from Hogwarts, but it really was deadly, and she sighed, accepting the inevitability of her surrender.

‘Draco… I don’t know why you think it will help you. And do you really think your family will believe that we’re dating?’

Draco grinned at her weak excuses, knowing that she had essentially just said yes.

‘My mum is always getting on me about settling down, and I can’t stand another Yule party with her shoving me in the direction of any and every eligible pureblood heiress. She’s been even worse since father left her – overcompensating through me or some rubbish.’

Hermione understood Draco’s predicament, she really did, her own parents had been not so subtly hinting in her direction for the past few years. Still, she didn’t think it was a good idea. Her own friendship with Draco was unconventional in his circles and hadn’t started out amicably at all. In fact, it had started as a hatred, which eventually grew to grudging respect, indifference, and finally friendship.

‘Your mum is going to _hate_ me. Not to mention your aunt.’

‘You’ve meet Aunt Andy already, remember, at that conference last year? She liked you just fine.’

Hermione rolled her eyes at Draco’s blatant avoidance. Hermione had met Andromeda, who was certainly cordial enough for the brief moments they had spoken. It wasn’t her she was worried about, which Draco was well aware of. He knew very well she was talking about Bellatrix.

Bellatrix was famous, or well notorious was probably a better word, for her radical views and strong opinions about blood purity and other hot topics in wizarding politics. She sat on the Wizemgamot for the Black family and with her vast influence over the other old families she had what was rapidly approaching a majority and could control most of the legislation that passed through.

Hermione had never met Bellatrix, but she was quite sure they’d get along like fire and ice seeing as she was on the opposite side of the spectrum for just about every issue.

‘And Bella… well I’m sure they'll be plenty of other things to keep her occupied.’

‘Mhmm. And she won’t want to meet her only nephew’s new girlfriend?’

‘Just trust me. It’ll be a night to remember. The Black family yule balls are famous – plus there will be loads of alcohol. Please?’

That was how Hermione found herself walking up to the gates of Black Manor, dressed in the most expensive set of dress robes she had ever touched and about to attend the most exclusive party of the season. She was nervous but steeled herself, knowing that she didn’t about the opinions of most of the people at the party anyways. She was there for Draco, who was to meet her at the front door and promised not to leave her unattended to deal with the guests on her own on the threat of castration.

She saw Draco standing in the entrance to the foyer and breathed a sigh of relief, letting go of the nervous clingy grasp she had on the ends of her very expensive sleeves. Draco had picked out the robes for her, insisting on picking them out and paying for them. Hermione had half expected them to be horrible, given Draco’s current rebellion from his family, but they were gorgeous and Hermione couldn’t help but feel like a bit of an impostor as she donned the ice blue silk.

‘Hermione!’

Draco looked just a relieved to see her as she was to see him, and she hugged him tightly, slightly taken aback by the kiss he pressed to her cheek until she suddenly remember their ruse. Right. She was meant to be his girlfriend. Hermione was going to have to call on her best acting skills as she wasn’t at all attracted to Draco and would never actually consider him in that way, nor did he think of her in that manner. Hopefully they would pull it off sufficiently to fool his family and then tomorrow they could go back to their usual sibling like banter.

‘Hello darling.’

Her voice was falsely sweet to her own ears but she hoped it wasn’t obvious to the others watching the scene. Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and nodded politely to the guests that were lingering before steering her down the hall towards the ballroom, stealing two flutes of champagne from an enchanted tray along the way.

Hermione sipped at her drink and leaned into Draco, happy to have something to do with her hands to overcome her nerves. He spoke quietly into her ear as they made their way through the crowd, pointing out people and names, who was engaged to whom and who they were secretly sleeping with. She wondered idly how Draco knew everything, though looking around the room even she noticed some of the connections that were pointed out to her. Apparently the debauchery of the wizarding elite was only hidden from those outside their immediate social circle.

The first member of Draco’s family that they encountered was thankfully the one Hermione assumed would be the easiest to both fool and to deal with. Andromeda Black was, pardon the pun, the original black sheep of the family, having dated and even been engaged to a muggleborn during and after her school days. Hermione didn’t know what had happened exactly, but the relationship ended, and Andromeda had turned her focus to her career as a healer. She was now the head of the magical accidents and injuries department of St. Mungo’s and spent her days reattaching severed limbs from duels and Quidditch matches alike.

‘Aunt Andy. You’re looking lovely tonight. Might I introduce you to my _girlfriend_ , Hermione Granger.’

Hermione thought to herself that the way he emphasized girlfriend was a bit too pointed and echoed a bit false, but that could have just been her nerves. The way Andromeda narrowed her eyes at the two of them though said otherwise, and Hermione took a particularly large swig of champagne before she reached out and shook the proffered hand.

‘Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

Andromeda studied the two of them a bit more before grinning slightly to herself, her eyes sparkling.

‘The pleasure is all mine. You two work together at the Ministry, correct? I seem to remember seeing you at the symposium for magical creature care last year.’

Hermione brightened at the mention of her work – she was passionate about protecting magical creatures and was always keen to discuss their latest initiatives. They quickly began a conversation about the intricacies of treating injuries when the patient could shift between forms at will, and Draco quietly excused himself to go the restroom after a few minutes, sensing that Hermione was safe and comfortable with his Aunt.

However, as soon as Draco had disappeared down an adjacent hallway Andromeda stepped much closer to Hermione, invading her personal space with a knowing look and not missing the way Hermione’s gaze dropped almost automatically to lips before going back to her eyes.

‘I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Hermione Granger. And not from my nephew.’

Hermione furrowed her brow as she tried not to be intimidated or back up from the close contact.

‘Oh?’

‘Mhmm… A trainee of mine, Fleur Delacour, spoke very fondly of you, for a time.’

Hermione gasped at the mention of her ex-girlfriend and immediately felt her cheeks go hot. Apparently fooling the Blacks was going to be much more difficult than she thought.

‘As I’m sure you remember, Fleur was very… _open…_ with her thoughts and experiences. You know how the french are. I have to say, from what I understood, Draco is not exactly your _type_.’

‘I...uhh…he’s… we’re...’

Andromeda winked at her as she stuttered and struggled for words. She very deliberately drank the last of her champagne, licking the errant drops from her plush lips while making direct eye contact. Hermione felt an arm reach around her and broke the stare to look at Draco, who had returned from the restroom and was looking between the two of them curiously.

‘I’m afraid I must go speak with someone who just arrived, but I’d love to continue our conversation at a later time. Hermione, dear, I’m quite certain we have _much_ in common and would get along most splendidly. Do keep in touch.’

With a wink and a squeeze of Hermione’s arm Andromeda was off, disapearing into the thickening crowd, and Hermione let out a sigh that was a mixture of relief and disappointment. Draco seemed to be nonethewiser of the tension and was grinning happily.

‘That went great. She totally believed us. Now, my mum saw me on my way back and we have to go greet her next. Ready?’

Hermione groaned. One Black sister down, two more to go.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco’s mother Narcissa Black was, if one was limited to just one word, stunning. This, Hermione was well aware of, her face having graced the cover of the Daily Prophet at least once per week during the scandal that was her high profile separation from her ex-husband and Draco’s father Lucius Malfoy. Somehow, though, the knowledge of her beauty didn’t quite prepare Hermione to see her in person, looking what was likely her very best, clearly enjoying being the center of attention in the room and entirely in her element. She was glowing, with happiness or pride Hermione wasn’t sure, but the effect of the emotion, her complete confidence and her physical appearance was a triple threat of the worst kind, and the attraction Hermione felt as they approached was akin to a physical blow to the gut.

It was only moments before Narcissa noticed her son, and seconds for her pleased gaze to turn into scrutiny as her eyes traveled over every inch of Hermione, inspecting, judging. Hermione forced herself to hold her chin up high, repeating her mantra to herself that it didn’t truly matter what the woman thought of her. Hell, part of the enjoyment Draco was getting from this was from the undeniable fact that his family _wouldn’t_ like her. She didn’t have anyone to impress, but, irrational as it was, she desperately wanted to do just that.

Hermione met Narcissa’s gaze as they were introduced by Draco and background noise of the ball faded away, leaving Hermione only with the awareness of her own heartbeat’s rapid acceleration and the way her eyes were lost in the depths of Narcissa’s siren like gaze. Her eyes were the grey blue of an iceberg, reflecting the light from the sea, the sparkling surface effectively distracting from the hidden depths and secrets which undoubtedly lie just beneath the surface.

She shivered, feeling very much like a deer, prey trapped under the gaze of the predator. She managed to break free after a moment, turning her eyes to the ground at her feet while she gathered her bearings, somehow feeling very naked and exposed. If she didn’t know better she would think Narcissa a legillimens, but only the most talented of witches and wizards were capable of the magic which was closer to an art form, and even fewer could accomplish it without a wand and direct casting. No, Narcissa Black was simply an intimidating witch, nothing more and nothing less.

‘Miss Granger. How _lovely_ to finally met you. Draco’s been quite absent as of late and it seems that now I can finally understand why. Young love.’

Hermione tried to hide her grimace while she searched her mind for a response. Narcissa’s voice, as light and polite as it was, dripped with a kind of molten steel that belayed just how little she truly believed her own words, especially that last two. Luckily, Draco jumped in to help, shaking his head at his mother.

‘I’ve been busy with work, mother, as I’ve told you many times. I simply don’t have the time or inclinations to have tea with the Parkinsons every other weekend.’

Narcissa raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Hermione, seemingly daring her to contribute to the conversation, a challenge which she of course couldn’t turn down.

‘A pleasure to meet you as well, I’ve heard nothing but good things from Draco. I’m afraid I have something to do with monopolizing Draco’s attentions, though not completely at my own behest. We work together at the Ministry, and lately have been quite busy with a few of the newer initiatives, but it should slow down after the holidays. I’m sure he’ll be back to the usual social calendar in no time at all.’

‘I’ll hold you to that.’

It was very nearly a threat, but Hermione refused to be intimidated. She might have been taken aback by the sheer force of her attraction but this, this was exactly what she was prepared for with the older woman. This was what she had been practicing in front of her mirror for, though she’d never admit that save for possibly under the effect of veritaserum.

‘I wouldn’t expect any less. Draco’s very passionate about his work but he’s more than capable of maintaining a balance. He’s aware of and will absolutely not be shirking _any_ of his duties as scion of the House of Malfoy and Black. Right darling?’

Draco appeared to not really grasp the concealed meaning behind her words, but he nodded happily and leaned into her embrace, while his mother narrowed her eyes suspiciously and seemed to bristle at their closer contact. Hermione could practically see the icy facade melting in front of eyes and the satisfaction was imminent, that was until Narcissa regained her composure and her expression turned frosty again.

‘Draco, I loathe to pull you away from Miss Granger, but while you’re here, I have to ask for a favor. In the library on the eight floor there’s an old tome from the Malfoy Library that somehow got mixed in with the Black lineage books. Temperamental as it is I am apparently no longer allowed to remove it, you know how those older books tend to be. The last time I tried it gave me a rather severe burn and I’d rather not risk an escalation. Could you be a dear and fetch it for me? Might as go up to the Owlery and send it directly to your father.’

Hermione’s eyes bored into Draco in a silent plea not to leave her alone but he was apparently not immune to his mother’s magnetism and agreed, essentially feeding Hermione to the wolves with a quick kiss to the cheek. He was so in trouble later. As he walked away Hermione imagined various ways she could get her revenge, most involving him having to do all of her paperwork for the rest of the foreseeable future. A firm grasp on her arm brought her back to the present, where Narcissa was peering at her with barely restrained satisfaction.

She was suddenly being pulled along behind Narcissa, the grip on Hermione’s arm being much stronger than she would have imagined. She spewed out a few words in protest but barely got a response, and in lieu of making a scene she decided to follow along and see what Narcissa wanted. They made their way through an almost hidden doorway into a sort of corridor that must have been used as a passage for servants and house elves as it was dusty and small, lacking the audacious glamour of the rest of the house.

Hermione was pressed far too closely to Narcissa for comfort in the small hallway and backed up a step, only managing a few scant inches of space before her back hit the wall behind her. She wondered whether she was going to be interrogated or threatened. Or both. As uncomfortable as she was with the proximity she couldn’t help but notice that Narcissa smelled wonderful, likely some ungodly expensive perfume, and idly wondered what her lips tasted like.

‘Now. Miss Granger. Care to explain to me why, since you are dating _my son_ , you are thinking what you are thinking right now?’

Hermione furrowed her brow. Narcissa had to be bluffing. There was no way she could possibly know where Hermione’s thoughts had strayed, and so she did all she could to calm her racing heart and the blush that was rising in her already pink tinged cheeks.

‘I apologize but I don’t know what you’re talking about...’

Her voice was strong, firm, and she regained enough confidence to push back slightly from the wall, meeting Narcissa’s insistent gaze.

‘No? You weren’t just wondering what my lips taste like? Admiring my perfume? You didn’t imagine earlier what I’d look like on top of you?’

Narcissa’s voice was darker than Hermione had ever heard it, the last sentence coming out in something closer to a growl. Her eyes were narrowed as she refused to break eye contact, peering right through Hermione’s brown eyes into the privacy of her mind. Obviously Hermione had been wrong, and Narcissa was in fact an extremely talented legillimens. An unknown one at that.

She tried not to think of what Narcissa had described while trying not to think of her ruse with Draco, which of course led her to think of both of those things, as was want to happen when one tried not to think about something. Her thoughts flashed through a horrifying combination of her agreement with Draco, embarrassingly graphic fantasies of Narcissa, and a few other dark secrets she’d rather keep to herself. Clearly, she should have learned occulumency.

Narcissa’s glare softened, turning contemplative.

‘Hmm...so you’re not really together, then? Interesting. I can’t say I’m disappointed. Or surprised.’

Narcissa tilted her head to the side slightly, obviously considering something.

‘In that case…’

She took a step closer to Hermione, thoroughly in her personal space now, and reached a hand up to tangle in the back of Hermione’s hair, fingernails scraping at the back of her scalp. Impossibly soft lips closed in on Hermione’s and she immediately let out a soft squeak, a mixture of both pleasure and surprise.

Narcissa kissed exactly how Hermione would have expected her to, a thorough and well planned assault where each flick of her tongue and nip of her teeth was perfectly choreographed to inflict a desired response which blended smoothly into the next motion. It was a dance Hermione was completely unfamiliar with but knew the steps all the same, perfectly guided and led by her experienced partner. The kiss was right on the edge of overwhelming but never quite tipped over that edge, Hermione was aware enough to know she wanted more but too incapacitated to do anything about it.

When Narcissa finally pulled back Hermione there wasn’t a hair out of place on her head, her expression sliding back to icy indifference and her lipstick perfectly in place. Hermione knew she herself was likely a mess, panting slightly and stray curls from her up-do tickling the back of her neck. Narcissa used her perfectly manicured thumb to wipe at a bit of lipstick next to Hermione’s mouth and she resisted the urge to suck the finger into her mouth.

‘Why?’

Hermione was only capable of one syllable but knew she didn’t need more, besides the other woman could just look into her mind if her meaning hadn’t come across. Narcissa blinked at her seriously before answering.

‘I wanted to.’

The explanation was infuriatingly simple and Hermione was about to say so when Narcissa continued.

‘I’m a Black, the youngest Black, and I was married to a Malfoy. I’ve never had to deny myself anything I desired, and I’m not about to start now.’

Hermione gaped as Narcissa turned and walked away, perfectly poised as if nothing was amiss, opening the door and disappearing back into the bright lights of the ball.

Hermione leaned back against the wall and gave herself a few moments before she’d rejoin the party. Andromeda and Narcissa had certainly not been what she had expected, which increased her apprehension about meeting the eldest sister. At least there wouldn’t be anything but animosity to contend with with Bellatrix.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione gave herself a few minutes but then she knew she had to get back to the ball, her absence was unfortunately surely to be noticed. The crowd was thicker when it had been and she wandered about for a bit, snagging a flute of champagne while she searched for the characteristic white blond hair of her companion.

When she finally found Draco again in the crowd her stomach dropped, because there he was, standing next to not only his mother, who she had been thoroughly snogged by just moments ago, but also both of his aunts. The way they were standing in a line emphasized both the similarity and differences of the sisters, the stark dichotomy of Bellatrix and Narcissa with Andromeda somewhat bridging the gap in between.

She had been dreading facing Bellatrix and had a sinking feeling that it was going to be much, much more difficult with both of her sisters there. They had all noticed her and were all watching Hermione’s approach. She felt increasingly unnerved by their intense stares and tried to focus on Draco’s more familiar and friendly expression.

‘Hey Hermione. Where have you been?’

She tried desperately hard not to look over at Narcissa at the question, knowing the woman would have her typical stony visage and would give away nothing. Her looking over would do nothing but cause suspicion. Instead she grasped her hands together nervously, resisting the urge to bite at her nails.

‘I just needed some air.’

Draco nodded in understanding and gave her a reassuring smile. The Black sisters, however, were less easy to convince, and Hermione had no doubt that they all saw straight through her lie.

‘Everything alright?’

Andromeda’s voice had a detectable note of curiosity, though her face remained rather blank. Her stare was pointed and Hermione had a brief moment of panic thinking that maybe Andromeda was also a legillimens. She forced herself to stay calm though, and her voice was remarkably steady and placid as she replied.

‘Yes, everything is perfectly fine.’

Hermione gave in after she responded and looked over to Narcissa, whose lips twitched ever so slightly. Bellatrix was watching the exchange with apt interest, her eyes flashing slightly at the micro expression that crossed her sisters face and then turning to examine Andromeda, who was still looking at Hermione intently.

Bellatrix cocked her head to the side and paused to consider Hermione for a moment before seemingly making a decision.

‘Draco, if you’ll excuse us. Cissy and Andy have been introduced already and I’m feeling quite left out. I think I’d like to have a chat with Miss Granger here, girl to girl.’

Hermione’s eyes widened in abject horror and even Draco, as oblivious as he had been acting all night, seemed to know that it was a very, very bad idea. He opened his mouth to argue but Bellatrix had made her decision and was already ushering Hermione away, a hand at the small of her back firmly guiding her away from the rest of the family, nails digging in ever so slightly when Hermione hesitated.

‘Not to worry. I’ll take very good care of her and bring her back in one piece.’

Bellatrix’s voice was almost casual as she called back over her shoulder to Draco, and Hermione could honestly say she had absolutely no idea what she meant by her statement. She was unsure if she even wanted to know.

Bellatrix turned towards Hermione then, and in a much lower voice and a completely different tone, added to her earlier statement.

‘I’d say I don’t bite, but, well, I’d hate to lie to my dear nephew.’

Hermione, who’d been swallowing hard to try and settle the swirling in her stomach, practically choked on her own saliva. Was Bellatrix… flirting with her? What were the odds that all three Black sisters would, well, swing that way, and all decide to make a pass at her, on the same night?

It simply wasn’t possibly and yet it was happening all the same. Bellatrix hadn’t taken her lack of a response as discouragement based on the way she keep talking as they climbed a spiral staircase towards where ever their destination happened to be.

‘I’m possibly going out on a limb here, but I’m rarely wrong. By the way you’re acting right now you wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of biting. My sisters seem to know something about you – something I was unaware of, but, well, there’s only one thing that’ll catch their attention like that.’

Hermione was scared to ask what exactly that was. Luckily Bellatrix was going to tell her.

‘I’m sure you can guess, but I’ll tell you anyways. The only thing that really captures their attention, _and mine_ , is needy little witches that are practically _begging_ to be taken.’

Hermione gasped. She wanted to deny it, wished she could reply and say that Bellatrix was wrong, but she’d be lying if the older witch’s tone and demeanor hadn’t lit a certain fire in her belly. Her blood was rushing through her veins to a few very specific destinations and her heart was beating so hard she could feel the movement of her chest. She wasn’t going to be strong enough to resist, and did she really, truly want to?

On principle she hated the witch – her ideals and bigotry and everything Hermione had ever heard about her screamed for Hermione to stay away, but something much stronger was pulling her in, similar to the pull she had felt towards Andromeda and Narcissa earlier but also somehow different, more carnal.

Too soon and not soon enough they reached what she assumed were Bella’s chambers, based on the color scheme and the way the witch seemed to immediately relax in a way only a familiar and comfortable environment can facilitate. The door shut with a foreboding click and Bellatrix turned to face her, her grin the picture of predatory glee.

What ensued would probably go down in history as the most intense few minutes of Hermione’s life. Before she even processed her surroundings there were teeth nipping at her lips and hands tearing at her robes, beginning the process of divesting them from her before irritation took over and a muttered spell from Bellatrix banished them to who knows where. Hopefully somewhere retrievable, since she’d have to put them back on later.

The thought was fleeting because then there were lips on her neck, sucking and biting and licking and doing some combination of the above and _oh_ that would definitely leave a mark, the thought of which made Hermione positively burn. Then there were lips on her breast and hands urging her thighs to spread, which she complied to without thinking. She was naked and spread on the bed and the witch above her was fully clothed without a curl out of place and somehow that just made it better.

Long agile fingers split her open and yes, Hermione had known she was wet, but feeling the lone digit slide so easily in she realized just how worked up she already was. She had half a mind to be embarrassed but Bellatrix’s guttural groan told her that her response to the ministrations was very much appreciated.

The fingers paused then, and Bellatrix pulled her body back just enough that the scratchy fabric of her lacy gown stopped rubbing against Hermione’s nipples in the delicious way it had been and she whined at the loss. Cool air met her body instead of warm heat and she knew what she needed to do, what Bellatrix was waiting for.

‘ _Please.’_

Insistent fingers started a rhythm that was anything but shy and probing and Hermione’s climb up the proverbial cliff was fast and inevitable. Her small mewls turned to silence as she climaxed, clamping down violently on the invading fingers until they were practically forced out. The orgasm tore through her with all the passion and intensity of its instigator, leaving her panting and exhausted and quite possibly changed in the aftermath.

Bellatrix looked down at her with a prideful expression on her face, obviously pleased with herself but still wanting. A bit as if she had cooked herself a gourmet meal and now was deciding whether to save the rest of it or to have just one more serving. Hermione hadn’t even began to recover before Bellatrix practically pounced on her for the next round.

When they emerged later, her robes having been retrieved from wherever they had been banished to, the ball was long over and only a few guests remained, lingering either out of intoxication or the desire to appeal to the hostesses one last time. Hermione felt conscious of her mussed appearance as they walked through the halls, though no one seemed to pay her any mind.

As the last few guests wandered out the doors, the Black family adjourned to the sitting room. Draco had clearly realized at some point what they had been up to, as he turned a shade of plum all the way up to his ears when he noticed her return, Bella’s arm slung possessively around her waste. Narcissa and Andromeda looked on with what Hermione could only guess was slight jealousy, as well as what looked like... _anticipation_?

The tension was thick, and for the first time that night, Hermione felt like she knew what to say.

‘Well, Draco, you did promise me that it would be a night to remember.’


End file.
